


Protecting your Bard

by fandomshaveruinedme



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blink And You Miss It Slash, Bromance, Can be Just Friends, Can be Slash, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Mentions of Yennefer, Slavery, Worried Geralt, whatever floats your boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:39:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomshaveruinedme/pseuds/fandomshaveruinedme
Summary: Geralt isn’t gone for that long, however, it is enough for Jaskier to get kidnapped by slavers. Can Geralt make it to him in time? Or will it be to late to save Jaskier from a painful fate.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 190





	Protecting your Bard

**Author's Note:**

> I love The Witcher and I just had to write a fic for my favorite boys Jasiker and Geralt. Jaskier does not get the love he deserves

Jeskier sat by the campfire, plucking a nameless tune on his lute, lost in thought. Geralt was off somewhere, probably bathing in the nearby stream or jacking off while thinking of that crazy witch Yennefer, or both actually. It didn’t matter really, Geralt could bed whomever he likes, who was Jeskier to judge. He had taken more people to bed than most, men, women, various other creatures (he really needed to stop going to taverns). It didn’t upset Jeskier that Geralt hardly paid him any mind, nope, not one bit. 

He was pulled out of his brooding, oh lord he was brooding like Geralt, due to the sound of a twig snapping nearby.   
“Oi, Geralt, is that you? I don’t suppose you’ve found us anything to eat besides rabbit because eating nothing but rabbit does not make for a good song.” 

There was no response. Squinting, Jaskier pulled his lute a little closer and spoke again. “Geralt? You could at least give me a grunt of acknowledgement so I don’t feel as though I am tal-.” 

An unknown calloused hand clapped itself over Jaksiers mouth, silencing him. Through the firelight, he could make out two more men emerging from the trees. 

“Don’t make a sound, bard, or I’ll cut out your vocal cords.” The man said as he pulled out a small dagger. Slowly, he removed his hand from Jeskier’s mouth and motioned for him to stand up. 

“Alright boys, looks like we caught ourselves a pretty one here. Should fetch a handsome price for this sorry bloke. Let’s get him out of here.”  
Jeskier didn’t have a moment to think before something rammed into the back of his head and he fell into darkness. 

***************

Geralt hadn’t been gone for that long. He left for 40 minutes tops to go rest his aching muscles in the stream, and to get away from Jaskier’s endless prattle. Yes, although he would never admit it to the bard, Jaskier had grown on Geralt, much to his dismay. Having friends was a weakness, one that could be easily exploited, especially because Jaskier could not handle himself. Let’s face it, he was hopeless in a fight. Geralt wasn’t even sure if the bard had ever even lifted a sword. 

With a sigh, Geralt heaved himself from the water. It was time to get back to that hopeless bard that he had come to care for. Drying off and putting his leathers back on, Geralt made his way to the campsite. He expected to hear Jaskier rambling on about one thing or another, or at least the sound of a lute being played, but nothing greeted him as he entered.

He’s probably just gone for a piss, Geralt thought, patting Roach and making sure she was okay. It was then that Geralt noticed the overturned bowl of stew resting by the log Jeskier was sitting on. Now, more alert, Geralt truly scanned the campsite for anything out of place. There were several sets of footprints, and a pair of drag marks that ended at the edge of the site making it seem as though someone was getting dragged and then got picked up. There were also three sets of hoofprints. The most alarming thing, however, was Jaskiers precious lute lying face down in the dirt. With a growl, Geralt prowled over to the lute and hoisted it out of the dirt. He then doused the campfire and hopped onto Roach. He had no idea how long Jaskier has been gone, but he needed to catch up fast. 

***********

Jaskier woke up to the sound of arguing. Groggily he opened his eyes and slowly sat up, wincing as he did. Sticky blood coated his head and dripped down his face. He noticed that his hands were chained together, and he was thrown over the back of a horse. A rough hand grabbed his shirt and yanked him down. 

“This here is a fine young lad found all alone in the woods. Doesn’t he got a pretty face?”   
Wearily, Jeskier noticed that he was being passed off to another man. The newer man had a scruffy grey beard and was missing one of his front teeth. 

“If I may interject, I don’t fancy myself being sold and I’d rather not-” for the second time in less than 24 hours Jaskier found himself being cut off, this time by a blow to the stomach. He folded downwards and took the next blow to the face. Jaskier fell to the dirt and felt blow after blow assault his body. After what seemed like eons, the blows finally stopped and he was pulled to his feet by the collar. 

“You are property now, you have no thoughts, you have no opinions, you don’t have anything, and if I had to guess, I’d say the person who buys you will buy for a good fuck, you are nothing but a whore now boy, get used to it.” With that being said, the man threw Jaskier into the back of a barred carriage and locked the door behind him. 

Jaskier hurt. There was no simple way to put it. His body was aflame. Blood dripped out his nose and a split lip made his mouth taste like iron. His ribs ached and it hurt to breathe. Every jolt of the carriage sent a new shockwave of pain cascading down his body. Not to mention, his wrists were torn and bloody due to the handcuffs binding him together. His only hope was Geralt coming to his rescue, but he had no idea if the Witcher would even know he’s gone. 

**************** 

Geralt followed the horse tracks to the nearest town and soon found himself in the local tavern. If someone sold Jaskier, there was bound to be talk of it here. He walked around the tavern, listening for anything that might match a description of Jeskier. Finally he heard someone mention a character matching Jeskier’s description. Cautiously, Geralt made his way over to the man. 

“I’m looking for a bard.” 

“ We’ll it ain’t me mate, so get lost.” The man clearly had too much to drink 

“ I have coin. You can get some if you point me in the right direction.”  
This seemed to have caught the man's attention, because he sat up a little straighter and leaned in, talking in a harsh whisper

“ I just sold a lovely young bloke to a local slave trader, had the pipes of a saint, and I’m sure his mouth can do many other things if you’d like. I heard he was traveling to Camlan so you best hurry before the boy sells. Pretty face like his is bound to go quick.”

Having all the information needed, Geralt slammed the man's face into the table and strode out of the tavern worry slowly seeping into his chest. 

*****************

Jeskier wasn’t sure how long they had been on the road, he had been in a pain filled haze for the majority of the journey. With a groan he sat up. 

“I need to piss,” He spoke, his voice raspy from unuse. “I said, I need to piss.” The wagon stopped. Jaskier was yanked out and thrown to the ground. 

“You don’t need shit, slave,” the man said as the telltale sound of a whip made its way through the air. 

Jeskier thought the beating he took hurt, however, it was nothing compared to the lashing he got at the hands of the slave trader. Fire. It felt like fire was being poured down his back each time the whip fell. It was endless. Finally, after what felt like ages, the whip stopped. Jaskier lay on the ground, having collapsed after the first few strikes of the whip. The blood dripped from his back and started pooling around his body, yet he didn’t move, he didn’t know if he could move. It wasn’t until he was hauled back up to his feet that he realized movement should be kept to a minimum. 

“Don’t speak back to your master boy. Next time it’ll be worse, pretty face be damned. Nobody wants an insolent slave, and that’s just what you are.” Jaskier didn’t respond as he was thrown back into the wagon. He didn’t do anything except hang his head and pray Geralt was coming for him. 

*****************

It had been nearly two days since Jaskier had been taken, and Geralt could feel himself closing in. He stopped in a forest clearing, noticing signs of disturbance among the trees. As he moved closer he saw blood splattered against the trees. It was also puddled on the ground, dirt swirling around in the red pool.   
Jaskier, he thought

What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?   
An unknown feeling started crawling it’s way through Geralt's body. Was it.. Worry? He had always claimed to not care about anybody, muchless the annoying bard who clung to him like a flea on a dog. Deep down, however, Geralt knew that the bard was his closest friend (besides maybe Roach) and with even more vigor, he began his quest for the stolen bard. 

***********************

Jaskier had no idea where the slaves were taking him, but at this point he was willing to go anywhere as long as he was taken out of the carriage. Straw was sticking to the wounds on his back, and his body was essentially one giant bruise. Flies had started swarming around him, attracted to the blood. He let his mind wander, hoping to forget about the sorry state of his body.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jeskier didn’t hear the startled shout of the slavers, nor did he hear the sounds of swords being drawn. Jeskier heard nothing until a gruff voice said his name. He felt calloused yet gentle hands pick him up and remove him from the carriage. All he managed was a small smirk at Geralt before he slipped into unconsciousness once again. 

*************************

Geralt saw a slaver's carriage through the trees, and urged Roach into an even faster gallop. In a flurry he grabbed his sword, and charged the slavers. With a delicate yet deadly grace Geralt struck down man after man until none remained alive. He jumped off Roach and stalked to the carriage, where he could see a prone figure laying inside. Worry fluttered in his gut what a disgusting feeling as he called out to Jeskier. The smaller man hardly stirred as Geralt removed his chains and pulled him out of the prison.

He sat Jeskier on the dirt outside and scanned his body for injuries. It didn’t look good. Jeskier had a bruised and bloody face, with one eye swollen shut. Carefully, Geralt peeled off the vibrant bard jacket and scanned the wounds for wounds. Angry, red lashes weeping blood covered Jeskiers back. He's been whipped a rage like no other filled Geralt. Jeskier was just a simple, idiotic, annoying at times bard. He didn’t deserve to be whipped. Geralt was so caught up in his rage, he almost missed the small smirk that Jeskier shot him before he slipped away once again. 

It took longer than Geralt would have liked to find a healer. By the time he rode into town Jeskier was burning with fever. 

“Will he live?” Geralt asked. 

“I have done all I can for him, but if he makes it through the night then he will live. He has two broken ribs and lacerations across his back. Not to mention the fever raging through his body.” 

With nothing to do but wait, Geralt pulled up a chair next to Jeskiers bed and sat down.

******************

Jeskier awoke slowly, wincing at the deep ache permeating his body. Bandages covered his torso and wrapped around his back. His back twinged at the slightest movements, but it felt much better than before. It was while analyzing his body he realized that Geralt was asleep in a chair next to him. 

“Geralt,” he rasped “Geraalllttt.”

“Jaskier, you’re alive. That’s good.” 

“Good? I think that’s the first time you’ve acknowledged that my passing would pain you. I’m touched, truly touched.” 

“Hmm… go back to sleep Jaskier, you need rest.”   
Jaskier relaxed back into the soft medical cot, tight bandages compressing his ribs. 

“Oh,” said Geralt, “I almost forgot I grabbed this for you.” And he picked up Jaskier precious lute off the ground and placed it beside the bed. 

Jaskier smiled, although Geralt had a hard time saying it, he truly does care, and with that thought he drifted off to sleep, Geralt by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my quick little thing. I also hope I didn’t make the characters to out of character but I tried.


End file.
